


Things Double Up

by inkyfishes



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 22:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9628553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkyfishes/pseuds/inkyfishes
Summary: Segments of the very early and very entwined life of the Holistic Assassin and the Holistic Detective.





	

_'I have unremarkably few memories of my childhood. I grew up on the smarter side of Transylvania to an absolutely perfectly normal English mother._

_'Father? Erm... no. No, I don't remember one of those at all. Why? Is that unusual, Todd?'_

*

It was a tired Romanian morning in a tired Romanian castle where a tired English mother was trying desperately to settle her only son.

Their bedroom - previously a kitchen, as evidenced by the rusting brass pots still hanging on the walls and the large, roaring fireplace - was roundish and squat in the underground of the abandoned castle. The wooden ceiling beams hung low, a cloyingly cuccoon around the young family. There were three, slightly dirty, mattresses as close to the fire as they dared. Two of them had been pushed together.

On one of these mattresses, cross-legged, the young mother gently rocked her boy. Svlad had stopped screaming the instant she had picked him up, as he always did. Now he just stared at her, his face a picture of innocence, as if butter wouldn't melt in his little mouth.

'You're just the worst,' his mother smiled, her heart light despite the exhaustion and her hunger. She waggled her finger at him and Svlad focused on it, determinedly. 'You're a little attention-seeker. What was so important you had to wake me up, hmm? What's the big secret you're keeping?'

She let Svlad drag her finger into his mouth. He pressed his tiny teeth against her knuckle when she offered it, and very gently suckled. He nervously warbled. He was going to start crying again. His mother shook her head at him.

'No, no, no little man,' she cooed, desperately. 'I know you're hungry. I'm hungry too. Papa will be back soon. With cake for me and milk for you.'

Svlad sniffled, threateningly. His tiny face was scrunching up. The promise evidentially wasn't good enough.

His mother sighed and brought him up to her shoulder. Svlad clutched like a displaced kitten and started to wail.

' _Hush little baby, don't say a word... Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird... And if that mockingbird don't sing.._.'

There was sound from the hatchway above them. It led to the grounds outside. Chains rattling. A lock, unlocking.

She knew that it was good. Some of the knots in her shoulders loosened. Relief washed over her.

' _Mama's gonna find you a pair of wings... And if that pair of wings just... melt..._ '

Andrei jumped into the basement, forgoing the ladder as he usually did. He landed, cat-like, on the stone floor. His large, black leather trench-coat fluttered in the displaced air.

'Those are not the lyrics, Caroline,' he announced, rising up to a stooped height.

He swung a large, black rucksack off his back. He threw it next to Caroline's mattress on the floor, where it landed with a soft thump.

'I'm bored of the lyrics,' Caroline muttered. 'You try singing the same damn song for hours and hours and not going stir-crazy. God, Andrei, take this child off me - he's being such a little shit.'

Andrei barked laughter. 'You are the worst mother!'

'He's the worst child!'

They exchanged baby for bag. Andrei collapsed heavily on the bed next to Caroline and flew Svlad in the air above him. Svlad cackled.

Caroline dug her hands into the rucksack and pulled out a large loaf of rustic bread, several paper parcels filled with salted meat, a small, floury cake and - thank god - two glass bottles of watery milk.

'Is this sterilised?' Caroline asked, waving one of the bottles. The milk inside swished.

Andrei did not move his glinting eyes from Svlad, who was yelping happily as he zoomed above his father. His tiny hands, peeking out of an oversized green babygrow, were outstretched in flight.

'You must re-evaluate your English expectations for Romanian reality, darling.'

'I'm not going to poison my children just because you Romanians refuse to boil your milk.'

' _Our_ children,' Andrei smiled, finally glancing at her, his blue eyes sparkling. Even after all this time, her traitorous heart still leapt to see the love in his eyes. 'This boy though - this boy is entirely yours. Look at this hair. This skin! He is a miracle of piss-weak English blood somehow defeating strong Romanian genes.'

'Can we please not talk about England? Or piss? I'm so tired.'

'Sleep, you crazy woman,' Andrei said, quiet and comforting. 'I'll boil the milk and feed him.'

Caroline looked longingly at the cake, but her tiredness was too overpowering. She laid herself next to Andrei and curled up into his side. He was warm and real.

'Remember to feed his sister,' Caroline murmured, already close to asleep. 'Bartine hasn't eaten either.'

In the corner on the other mattress, wrapped in a tight blanket, a girl with an explosion of curls much like her father's peacefully slept.

*

_'I don't remember nuffin really. It's like a... whole 'nother world - like it didn't happen and I dreamed it. Trees and... it was fucking cold._

_'Papa. Papa was like - he was huge, you know? He must have been like... eight feet tall._

_'Mom? Nah, never had one of those. What are they like? Hey. Hey Ken? You gonna eat that?'_

*

The trees in the grounds of the castle were strung with a twisting nest of overgrown ivy. The dense foliage obscured most of the light. Sunlight which did break through scattered over the earth, littered with dead leaves and twigs. The sweet stench of rotting plants gripped everything.

Amongst them, the small family enjoyed the brief respite in the sunshine. Caroline watched with trepidation from her place underneath a large, stoic oak tree as Andrei spun Bartine like a fairground ride. She screamed, fearless. Svlad was laughing below them.

Andrei swept Bartine into a hug, tipped her upside down and dangled her by her feet.

'Do the sucky! Do the sucky!' Bartine crowed, her face going red, clapping her hands together.

'No, Andrei!' Caroline said warningly, before Andrei could reply. She spoke in Romanian; the twins were fluent and - other than the odd English phrase - exclusive to it. 'Svlad doesn't like it.'

Svlad looked at his mother for reassurance, worry flicking across his face.

'I like it,' Bartine pouted. 'Svlad's a baby,' she said, looking down at him.

'Am not!' Svlad shouted, setting his jaw defiantly.

'Are too!'

'You are both babies,' Andrei announced, putting Bartine on the forest floor. He put his hands on the twins, one palm for each head. They came barely up to over his knee. 'See how small you are? You are insignificant to me.'

'Papa,' Svlad whined.

'He's joking, Svlad,' Caroline soothed.

She shot a dark look at Andrei. Andrei grinned at her, showing his sharp teeth. She gave him a sarcastic smirk in return.

' _Strigoi_ ,' Svlad blurted.

A cold fear settled on Caroline. She tried not to let it show.

'Where did you hear that word, sweetheart?'

Svlad turned to her, holding an expression of utter confusion.

'I dunno,' he said. 'Is it right?'

Caroline looked worriedly at Andrei, who looked concerned in return.

Andrei dropped to a knee, bringing himself as close to the twins' height as was possible. He smiled, placating, at Svlad who was now nervously chewing on his lower lip.

'You need to be careful with words you use to describe people, Svlad,' Andrei said very slowly. 'Do you understand?'

Svlad nodded and held out his arms. 'Up?' he asked, hopefully.

Andrei smiled and grabbed him around the waist, swinging him into the air.

*

_'I can speak seven different languages. Well, five. Well, okay Todd, two if you really don't consider my frankly amazing Scottish accent able to permit me a claim for a completely distinctive dialect._

_'Well, I know English, of course. And, um. Well. Some - some words of -_

_'Actually, I just know the one language. English, yes. Absolutely just... that.'_

*

'We've never used that word around them,' Caroline whispered in the absolute dead of night, curled close to Andrei. The twins - close by in the cramped room - were deeply asleep on their mattress. 'How did he know? I'm worried. I have a - I have a bad feeling.'

'You think he's like you,' Andrei murmured, stroking her arm.

'Yes,' Caroline whispered, tears threatening to fall. 'Oh God.'

'They're not like me. They eat. They don't - they don't need to feed - they haven't been searching for others like I did - and Bartine, she's not shown anything - not even -'

'What if they're both like me? What if they have to go through what I did? What if they have to go through what we're going through, right now, for the rest of their lives?'

Caroline felt her anxiety threaten to overwhelm her. It was difficult to breathe.

Andrei very softly kissed her and then inhaled deeply. With a gust of brilliant blue fire, Caroline's terror was pulled out of her and into the air. It swirled into Andrei's mouth like water down a plughole. Caroline shivered all over.

'Thank you,' she murmured. 'God, Andrei... what the hell are we going to do?'

*

_'Huh? I dunno, just words come up in my mouth sometimes. That's what comes up when I'm gonna stab someone through the eye with a pool cue. It's just always what I scream._

_'Yeah, I have done it before. I've done everythin' before!_

_'It's just what I scream, Ken. Words are just noises, why they all gotta mean somethin'?!'_

*

They were hiding behind a tree. It was a large tree they had often climbed. Svlad didn't really like climbing - he always fell - so he would more often just sit on the grass watching his fearless sister as she leapt from branch to branch. She never got hurt.

Tonight, they weren't climbing. Svlad knew they would never climb it again.

There was howling in the air. It was good, protective howling. His papa's brothers. They would hold Them off. His papa's brothers would keep Them away.

'I feel sick,' Svlad whispered to his sister. He couldn't stop shaking. It wasn't even cold.

Bartine grabbed his hand and squeezed it. Svlad squeezed back.

'S'okay. I'll protect you.'

'They said they'd come get us - why haven't they come got us?'

'They will! Shh!'

'We need to run.'

'Svlad -'

'No, Bart. _We need to run_.'

*

_'I'm just... not a great fan of water, is all!'_

*

_'Fuck that wet stuff. I only shower 'cause you make me.'_

*

There was a wide, storming river that Bart knew she couldn't cross.

The barking was getting nearer. The howling wasn't her papa's howl. It was four-legged, with snarling teeth. There was shouting too - angry, weird sounding shouting. And there were all these pops in the air - like people bursting balloons.

'We have to cross -' Svlad inched forward, his hand still gripping Bart's.

'No! No, we go on!'

'I need to go this way!' Svlad yelled.

'I need to go this way!' Bart yelled back.

Bart's stomach started to hurt real bad. It didn't feel good. She couldn't see. Bart wiped her free hand over her eyes. Her face was wet. Why was it wet? It wasn't raining.

'You never cry,' Svlad said, quietly.

'You go then. You cross. I'll go this way. I'll find you later.'

Bart's mouth was full of words that were really important to get out, but she didn't understand why.

It was getting more and more difficult _not to be running_.

Bart grabbed her brother and pulled him into a fierce hug. Svlad would normally complain and say it was hurting, but this time he only hugged back tighter.

When they stopped, they said nothing, and split.

*

_'Things happen in twos. They happen in fours, in sixes and in eights, yes, but even then they always happen in twos. The universe just - '_

*

'Mama!' Svlad cried, running straight into her arms. 'Left! Left! We have to go left!'

His mother didn't so much as have a chance to breathe before she had picked him up in her arms and started to run.

*

_' - works that way, it always has, I dunno why. Things just double, or four-uple or six-uple or eight-uple up. Once you've got that in your head, you've got everythin'.'_

*

'Papa!' Bart screamed. The man was behind her papa, and he wasn't looking.

She ran at the man, pushed him to the ground, grabbed his shiny metal toy and unloaded all the bangs into his face.

*

_'When I was seven, my mother - and I - went to England. She had become increasingly... distracted._

_'She dispatched me to a mid-range - but appropriately expensive - boarding school with a particularly exciting Oxbridge admissions record...'_

*

Caroline heard the car screech to a stop behind her. Heard someone get out. Heard someone beginning to run.

She didn't turn around. She didn't even speak. She placed her shopping on the ground of the empty high street. She closed her eyes and sighed, content.

He was safe. Her death would be one bullet. Painless.

*

_'We were on a boat for a while... then like a car, but it was a car on these rails... I dunno. We were here then. America. He was never - he was different somehow; I could see it like... under his skin._

_'We lived in loads of different places. Under houses, in woods. He used to catch me things to eat. And we'd kill anyone I needed to.'_

*

Andrei fought until his hands were bruised and bleeding. Wave after wave of armed-to-the-teeth bastards with tattoos and guns and knives. His brothers - still in Romania - were long dead.

He was being overwhelmed. He couldn't fight them much longer. He wiped their blood over his face and bared his teeth, snarling.

She was safe. His death would be earned. Heroic.

*

_'I... no. No, I don't think I ever saw her again...'_

*

_'He just never came back. He must've... forgotten where I was...'_

*

_'And then -'_

*

_'And then -'_

*

' _Black Wing._ '

**Author's Note:**

> fyi if this theory turns out to be right I want 4 of ur british pounds. As encouraged by the Discord group <3


End file.
